


Fast Times At Lawrence High

by Chaz_1789



Series: Rules Meant To Be Broken [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: ;) way-hey, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Destiel - Freeform, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, M/M, Sex Worker Castiel, Smut, So it was PWP but plot has started to insert itself, they're both seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaz_1789/pseuds/Chaz_1789
Summary: Mean Girls? No, Mean Gods! What the fuck, universe?





	Fast Times At Lawrence High

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this series really will only make any semblance of sense when read in chronological order.

Cas was an idiot, idiot, _idiot!!_

The fuck had he been thinking?! Yeah, of course it made perfect sense to give up a hundred and fifty dollars over a damn crush! Well, a hundred and ninety, technically. And that wasn't including the motel.

And now he was trudging miles home in his tight work clothes because he'd been dumb enough to fall asleep in those strong, safe, warm arms. Well, that was a bit unfair – more like he'd been fucked into unconsciousness. It was _not_ under his control that he'd passed out.

It wasn't as if he'd missed out on other business though, the rest of the night had been clear. He'd planned (or hoped for) nothing beyond meeting Dean and riding him like a stallion. And that he had done. Well, you know, before Dean had flipped them over and...and made love to him. Because that hadn't been fucking. Castiel _knew_ fucking. That had been something else entirely.

And that something else made his stomach flutter and his ears hot, even in the cool air of dawn.

Cas was as much to blame for how he was feeling now, though. When he'd woken up several hours after passing out in a glorious haze, he'd been in no rush to get out of bed. Cas had just laid there and basked in the afterglow, reveling in Dean's scent, adoring the closeness, the miles of warm skin. He'd noted the fine stubble just coming in on his jaw and the little bump on the bridge of his nose. He'd spent hours just looking. And, after he'd torn himself away to make sure he'd be out of there before Dean woke up (because Cas was a complete coward) he'd placed a gentle kiss on his sleeping lover's forehead.

Then set down forty dollars. Then paid for the room. Then fled.

He arrived home, tired and sore and...his mom was drunk. He could _smell_ the liquor as soon as he entered the house – fucking fantastic. Dread already starting to cloak him, Cas pushed the door open wider and it scraped against a piece of paper on the floor which he picked up. His heart sank.

It was an eviction notice. It certainly wasn't the first one he'd ever seen, but– no this time was supposed to have been different. He'd made sure it was different; Cas had started turning tricks for exactly this reason! And it'd been working! He was scraping together money so that they could make the rent and he and Anna could stay in the same fucking school for longer than four months.

Cas strode through to the lounge and saw his mother slumped on the couch, bottle in one hand, burnt out cigarette in the other. What a picture. A familiar, depressing picture.

"Have you just _not_ been paying the rent?!" he barked and she jolted awake at his voice.

"Huh?"

"Have you not been paying the rent?!" he repeated. He got a small hit of satisfaction at the way she cringed at his volume.

"What's that?" she asked, eyes bleary but focusing on the paper in his hand as she pushed herself up on the sofa.

"It's an eviction notice. Why are they evicting us?"

"Landlord's an asshole," his mother grumbled, "don't have the money."

"You _have_ the money! I've been putting cash in the jar, how has that not been enough?!"

"And where you been getting all that cash, huh?" his mother asked darkly, deflecting the conversation expertly and turning a judgemental eye on him. Like she was in any position to fucking judge him.

"I've been working," he said in clipped tones, trying not to look ashamed.

"And what sorta job would pay you that kinda money, Cas?" she needled, looking at him like he was something disgusting. He didn't need help feeling like that.

"We both know neither of us wants to get where this conversation goes, so how about it stops right here?" he said, adjusting his too-tight shirt and wishing he'd fixed his sex hair. God, he reeked of it. He should have showered at the motel.

"How long we got?" she rasped, nodding towards the notice.

"A week," said Cas hotly, resigned to what his job now was. "I'll try and find us a place somewhere close."

He walked towards his room but paused in the doorway as his eyes fell on the paper that read 'Anna's Room' in glittery blue pen. He turned to his waste of a mother once more. "You can't keep putting Anna through this, Mom. She deserves better."

And with that he took himself to his cramped, moldy bedroom and attempted to replay the nicer parts of last night to wipe out the bad taste of this morning. The thing was, as great as being with Dean had felt, he couldn't be anything more. Cas still needed to turn tricks. This was still the reality of his life. And now they had to move. Again.

He rolled onto his side and fell asleep wishing that he wished he'd taken some money for last night.

— – - • - – —

  
He found a place. Not a nice place –they never were– but a cheap place that didn't look too closely at its tenants. It still meant a deposit though, and that was going to mean a concerted week of working for him. He might even need to try and hit up some of his old regulars from his previous stomping grounds. Ugh, he was tired just thinking about it.

And it also meant another new school. He was so fucking sick of being the new guy. Normally, the technique of keeping his head down and staying quiet tended to work quite well at drawing no attention, making no attachments. It meant no one would bat an eye once he left. There'd be no loose ends. No disappointment.

Except Anna wasn't like that. Anna was bubbly, friendly and outgoing. She made friends without even trying and every single school move just broke her little heart again and again. Cas had practically raised her since their dad left, and at eight years she was far too young to have to deal with all the shit life was heaping on her.

Cas? Well, Cas had accepted long ago that his childhood was over. It wasn't fair, but it was the way of things. He was just lucky they were both smart enough to handle the schoolwork that they were given. If all coasted along as it had been then Cas would graduate without issue and hopefully find full time, legitimate work that would get him off the streets.

Moving day came and went, and Castiel mourned the loss of a potential weekend to see Dean again. He wondered if Dean had gone to the bar only to find that Cas was absent. But what the hell would he even say to him if he did go back to Axel's after Cas gave back the money, paid for the motel room and hightailed it out of there before Dean woke up?! No, much better that it was over and done with, with a couple of fond memories to squirrel away for lonely nights. He'd be too far away to work that location again anyway. New school, new house, new customers.

Cas was just finishing off the paperwork for Anna's new school (like his mom would ever do it, ha!) when the little flame-haired angel herself appeared around the corner and smiled at him sheepishly.

"What's up, little bean?" asked Cas.

"Will you...will you still take me to my first day?" she asked.

"Don't I always, kiddo? This one's pretty close, so we can walk it." He smiled.

"Thanks," said Anna quietly. Her eyes were slightly red. Cas stood and gave her a big hug.

"No need to thank me, it's what big brothers are for." And parents. But Anna and Cas didn't really have those anymore. So he'd do his best. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that this would be the last move for a while, but he'd learned long ago that that was a promise he couldn't keep – therefore one he shouldn't make.

"You want pasta for dinner? I was gonna cook some up." Anna nodded against his shirt and, smiling, he ruffled her hair in a way he knew she hated.

— – - • - – —

He barely made it to school their first day. Walking Anna had been a hell of a detour, and then she'd needed some comforting before he was able to take off to get to his new campus. Cas panted as he jogged up the stairs to his first class, vaguely missing one of his previous schools that had been all on one level, although he couldn't pinpoint which one it had been.

Puffing, he knocked on the closed door of E16 and opened it, into what his timetable told him would be English Lit.

"Sorry I'm late," he mumbled quietly. The teacher was a short, scruffy looking guy in his thirties, by Cas's estimation, who seemed supremely un-fussed about his tardiness.

"Class, everybody say hi to our new student..." he looked down at his register notes "..Castiel Novak." He didn't seem surprised at the total lack of response he got from his senior class. "Okay, well, I'm Mr Shurley, just take any of the free desks over there." He indicated three empty desks at the back of the room and, as Cas looked up, his eyes fell on a familiar face. A painfully familiar handsome face. Although it was wearing an unfamiliar expression: pure terror.

It was Dean.

Dean was at his school. Dean was sitting in his English Lit class. Dean was looking for all the world like he'd seen a ghost.

The class murmured slightly and Cas realized he may have been staring a bit. He lowered his head and motored past all the students until he was seated the furthest away from Dean he could be – which was only two rows behind, but hey, he tried – and attempted desperately to concentrate on his work, not on how his heart rate was somewhere in the mid thousands.

What the fuck were the fucking odds?! What were the fucking, fucking, fuckity, fucking fu– oh shit, Dean was turning back to look at him. And Cas couldn't look away. He wanted to, but just physically couldn't. Blushing, he held the shocked and questioning green stare and tried to say 'I have as much idea how this happened as you do, buddy' with his eyes.

One of the jock types sitting next to Dean nudged his elbow and drew his attention back to the class and Cas began to breathe again. He took out his notebook and tried to listen to what Mr Shurley was saying, but his eyes kept straying to the short, light brown hair on the back of a certain head.

Whatever deity there may or may not be in the heavens, they had a sick, twisted sense of humor.

After an interminable hour the bell rang and Cas sprang to his feet, desiring to get away from Dean as quickly as possible. It wasn't that he was afraid that Dean might say something, oh no, it was because Cas was all different kinds of embarrassed about what he himself had done the last time they'd met.

Cas had never done that with a customer before and had absolutely no idea of how to deal with his feelings on the situation. He'd not wanted anything between them to have been paid for. With Dean it felt different, at least it did to Cas, and if he only ever let himself have those two times, they sure as hell weren't going to be transactions.

He knew full well that his emotional range only usually extended from mistrust to disdain to resignation ninety percent of the time. He wasn't a warm and fuzzy person. Well, to anyone except Anna. So he was thoroughly dreading the potential conversation where he might have to explain his undeniably warm and fuzzy behaviour. At least Dean didn't know about the forehead kiss. He _hoped_.

It took less time than he'd hoped for Dean to track him down. It was nearing the end of morning recess and he'd finally located his locker when a strong hand looped around his upper arm and he was dragged into a disabled bathroom close by along the corridor before he could protest. The door was clunked shut and Cas backed himself up to the nearest wall, attempting to lean nonchalantly, as Dean turned to face him.

There was an interlude of solid staring. Which, Cas noted, was becoming a bit of a thing with them. Dean's big, warm, green eyes looked even better in the natural light glinting through the small window. In fact, all of him did. This was the first time they'd met in daylight. Cas's chest ached with something deep; He convinced himself it was indigestion.

Cas decided then to break the silence and redirected his focus to a bit of graffiti on the wall instead of the demigod before him.

"Hmm, bathroom. Bit of a downgrade from motel," he attempted to say casually.

"I–I...whatch'ya doin' here Cas?"

"Matriculating. What do you think?!" Cas snapped, although at the moment all he was learning was how many balls a Mr Crowley sucks and who loves whom '5eva'. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean's fists clenching nervously.

"Look, I can't– no one here knows about me," Dean blurted out, bluntly. "I just, you won't say anything will you?" He sounded genuinely panicked. Cas scoffed.

"What the hell do you think I'd say? 'Yeah, Dean here likes dick. I know because I'm the hooker who took his gay cherry'?" Dean flinched. Cas might have overdone it on the snark, but he was pretty dang nervous too. He took a breath. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. You hired me to be discreet, and I am."

Dean looked only marginally less fraught. "How come you're doing that anyway?"

"Why does anyone do it? We need the money."

"Then why did you..." he searched for the right words, "give me a refund?" Christ, and there it was. Cas blushed hotly and tried to remain aloof, although that was a pretty tall order. He hadn't rationalized it to _himself_ properly, how was he supposed to explain it to Dean without sounding like a complete assbutt?

"Oh. Yeah well," Cas rubbed the back of his neck, thoroughly embarrassed, "I–I figured you kinda gave me as good as you got, so there was no need to charge you."

Dean squinted at him. "Is that a really screwed up way of saying you liked it?"

"Maybe."

"That you like me?"

"Possibly."

"Huh."

Quiet stuffed itself into the small room, filling up the gaps between them. Cas didn't dare look at Dean just then; no way was he strong enough to guarantee he wouldn't say or do anything moronic.

The bell rang, tearing through the silence.

"We should probably get to class," said Cas, after Dean didn't make to move right away.

"Oh, right, yeah," he paused and then, "Nice to officially meet you Castiel Novak."

"Please, just Cas," Cas said, still looking anywhere but green, "and it's nice to officially meet you too Dean...?"

"Winchester," Dean said with a small smile playing on his lips that Cas found it hard to ignore or look away from.

It felt so weird to be standing there at school, oddly formal with the guy whose dick he'd been riding only a week and a half ago. There was one more beat of staring before Dean finally made for the door and left.

Cas took a deep breath then slumped limply against the grubby tile. New school, new problems. And one hot as fuck closeted jock whom he'd seen naked. Just spec–freakin–tacular.

— – - • - – —

Contrary to Castiel's usual Invisibility Policy, Dean seemed to be in everybody's line of sight. Which, you know, he couldn't blame them for but it did mean that he was always busy and surrounded by people. Whether it was his friends, his teammates, or heart-eyed girls there was always someone impeding Cas's ability to talk to him. Which would have been nice, he'd never gone to a school where he already knew somebody.

He settled for watching Dean instead from a safe distance. Ha! As if it was a choice in the first place, his eyes could not seem to focus elsewhere if Dean was in the general vicinity. And, as if the universe felt it needed to make Dean even more attractive, Cas saw him stop to help a gawky looking freshman pick up his books after he'd tripped ("Coordinated as ever, Garth." "You know it!"). Then stay behind after class to help Ms Moseley tidy her classroom. Then stop one of his meathead friends from teasing another student. Cas was even starting to get a little pissed off at how perfect he seemed.

But bar the whole Adonis ex–john in class thing, the rest of his week was filled with all the usual dullness of first weeks at new schools. That Friday, as Cas made his way across the parking lot adjacent to the school gym en route to his new home, he spotted an unmistakable vehicle –one with a couple of very nice memories attached– sat alone in one corner of the empty lot.

Cas cast a quick glance around in case someone, or Dean, was about, but most of the students seemed to have left already. Nothing was stopping Cas from just continuing on his way home. In fact it would be sensible. He'd need to make sure he was home before three thirty to be there when Anna got back from school, not to mention making dinner and going to work. And there was absolutely no rational reason to consider walking into the gym.

But like a dumbass he was considering...and then he was doing.

The door creaked as he pushed it open and he spotted a sign to the boy's locker room pointing left. Not knowing who else might be in the building, Cas tried to look as casual as possible when he entered, attempting to make it appear like he was just having a look around and not hoping to find a certain someone in the gym locker room.

And Yahtzee, that certain someone was sitting on a bench by the rows of lockers. Cas paused in the doorway. Dean was bowed forward with his head in his hands, seemingly lost in thought, and Cas began to reevaluate his decision to come in here. But just as he thought he should shuffle on out of there, Dean rubbed his face and then looked up, jumping in his seat as he spotted Cas hanging out creepily in the doorway. Way to go, Cas, you were just standing here silently staring at him - you mustn't look Hitchcockian at all! He smiled to try and make his presence less weird, but it felt pretty weak.

"Your 'roided up beast of a car is still in the lot. I wanted to check you hadn't drowned in the shower," he said, trying like hell not to sound too unsettling.

Dean's surprise quickly faded and he smiled back. "Hey, Baby is all natural! But, sorry to disappoint if you came in here hoping to find me in the shower."

"Not gonna lie, that wouldn't have been a terrible outcome," said Cas, arching an eyebrow. It was so easy to fall back into flirting with Dean. He leaned casually against the doorjamb. "So let me guess, football? Or is it too optimistic to hope wrestling team?" he asked with a leer.

"Actually, today it was track."

"Aw shucks," he said dryly.

"But I am on the football team. And I may have wrestled a bit too," said Dean, looking a little smug.

Cas's mind immediately flooded with definitely non–PG images of Dean in tight spandex wrestling guys to the ground and he bit his lip then grinned.

"Do you think you could show me a couple of moves?"

"What moves are you interested in?"

"Pinning," said Cas, smiling even wider, sauntering into the room.

Dean stood, walked the short distance to Cas and before Cas had even registered the proximity Dean had his arm drawn behind his back and his front pinned to the nearest row of lockers. Dean wasn't being rough enough to hurt, but Cas sure as shit couldn't move.

"Wow, you're fast," Cas he mumbled into the locker. "Show me another." Quick as a flash Cas ended up on his front on the floor this time. Now that had hurt slightly, these were tiles not mats after all. He grunted. But then he felt Dean's semi against the back of his upper thigh. Very deliberately he raised his hips and ground back into Dean, who groaned quietly.

"Am I doing it right?" asked Cas, continuing to grind, feeling the bulge against his butt grow harder.

"Not standard technique," quipped Dean, starting to sound a little breathy, "but it would sure throw off your opponent." He felt his hair ruffle as Dean's head dipped to nuzzle lightly against the back of Cas's neck, and at the slight easing of the hold Cas took advantage and pushed back with all his might. Success! Dean was knocked back off him onto his butt, his back against the lockers, and Cas swung his legs over Dean's hips, planting himself firmly on his lap. He looked Dean dead in the eye and bore down hard.

Dean groaned, his eyelids flickering. "Unorthodox but effective," he grunted, his hands swinging up to Cas's hips. "You thinkin' about trying out for the team?"

"That's not what I'm thinking about, no," Cas muttered, drinking in Dean's gorgeous face. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Irresistible.

He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking down to those full, pink lips and back up. If Dean didn't want him to do this Cas gave him ample opportunity to say so. But Dean didn't say a word, he just let Cas keep on coming until their mouths met softly.

The press of their lips set sparks off in Castiel's brain. And stomach. And pants. He hummed into their kiss as they increased the pressure of it, tongues and teeth coming into play. They pushed into each other, pressing as much of their bodies together as possible in this position.

Cas's stomach swooped as Dean's arms wrapped about him, softly pressing fingers into his back. They were strong arms; strong and secure and gentle. Before Dean, Cas wouldn't have equated 'gentle' with sexy but it was definitely a trait that just made this Calvin Klein model even more godamn irresistible.

God, Cas could kiss Dean forever. But another part of his anatomy was straining to get some attention, especially when he circled his hips and felt the hard jut of Dean's own arousal under his ass. He pulled back from Dean just far enough to tackle his fly open and bunch his pants down to pull his erection out of it's denim prison.

Dean hissed as Cas encircled him with his fist and stroked gently. After a few strokes Dean grabbed for Cas's belt almost violently and drew Cas's dick into his large hand. The rough drag of his callouses felt exquisite! Cas tipped his forehead against Dean's to look down and watch their hands work each other.

He reached his free hand up to cup the side of Dean's jaw, running his thumb against his kiss swollen lower lip, catching it with his nail. Dean's tongue darted out to just swipe the tip of Castiel's thumb and the sight drove him fucking crazy! He surged forward, so desperate to taste what he could of Dean, wishing they could suck and rim and fuck, but at the same time, the feel of Dean's hand pumping up the length of him felt kind of perfect too.

They broke apart to gasp for breath. The way Dean was flicking his wrist! Oh, pure magic. Cas increased the speed of his own wrist and drew his left hand under Dean's shirt to play with one perfect pink nipple. He'd seen them, he knew they were perfect– just like everything else about this bastard. Dean let out a rough huff of air, his hips bucking a bit. Oh, Cas would need to get his mouth on them too one of these days.

" _Fuck, Cas_ ," Dean whispered out, roughly.

Hearing Dean talk like that may just cause spontaneous ejaculation, or maybe he was just that gone for him, but Cas's orgasm snuck up on him so fast that all he could do was grunt and grip Dean's shirt as he spilled copiously over Dean's fist and clothes. He jerked and jolted in pleasure as he rode out his climax, his head resting in the crook of Dean's shoulder, rasping out ragged breaths through each aftershock.

It was an embarrassing display of Cas's staying power under Dean's hands yet again. He'd barely had to touch Cas while fucking him before he'd come all over, and this time...well. Let's just say it wasn't representative of his usual stamina.

Dean's cock was still hot and hard in his hand though, and after a moment of recuperation he resumed stroking and twisting and pumping until Dean's breath was coming in short, sharp bursts. Cas made sure to get a good look at his face as Dean crested the peak and dug his nails into Cas's back, spurting his release into the space between them. That face...that face should be carved onto fucking mountains.

They stayed on the floor, sharing gentle kisses and using Dean's tee to wipe up the mess (he insisted he had another one and Cas wasn't gonna complain about Dean being shirtless for a bit). Yet again Cas was able to feel Dean's powerful arms keeping him close, just holding him, and, yeah, there was possibly some deeper shit in there about Cas craving affection because he didn't get enough, but God fucking damn it, it felt nice! He wasn't gonna introspect that hard about why he enjoyed being held after sex by a painfully attractive athlete – because _duh!_

Cas had just started nibbling his way along Dean's jaw, feeling the reemergence of tingles low down in his abdomen –thank fuck for hormones– when Dean spoke.

"Go out with me somewhere tonight?" he let out all in a rush, almost like he was afraid to say it. Cas looked up.

"Tonight's kind of...not available..."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Weekends are sort of...business hours..." Dean looked sadly confused before comprehension swiftly dawned and his shoulders slumped. "Sorry," Cas said quietly before he could stop himself. No, he shouldn't be apologizing. Cas would not apologize for his job.

"So you're still..."

"Yeah," he said, trying not to sound too exasperated. Dean knew what he did, they'd met that way for fuck's sake! Why was he now acting like it was a nasty surprise? Castiel felt irked. "I don't do it for fun or a drug habit or anything," he said, irritated but feeling a stupid, compulsive need to justify himself to Dean. "We _need_ it."

"Why can't you get a regular job like other teenagers?"

"What fast food joint is gonna earn me a couple hundred bucks a weekend, huh?!" he barked out, getting seriously pissed now.

"Two hundred...Cas, are you the only one bringing money in?" Dean asked quietly. Cas really had no answer to that. He was, but he didn't want Dean to know it. "Do your folks know?" Okay, this conversation had well and truly jackknifed into no mans land.

"Look, I didn't come in here for a heart to heart, Dr Phil, so just mind your own godamn business!" said Cas, levering himself up from Dean's lap and aggressively doing up his fly.

"Whoa, whoa, ease up there Cas," Dean put his hands up placatingly and Cas deflated somewhat at the pleading look on his face.

"Dean, I –" Cas sighed, he didn't want to fight with Dean. "I can't stop working, okay? It's not just me at home and...and I _do_ like you. But I can't do what you're asking me."

"I only asked you out on a–"

"Do you want me to stop turning tricks?"

A silence followed, so thick it clogged his lungs. And there it was. The person who was all of Cas's fantasies and dreams, who was funny and kind and sexy and smart, who actually _wanted him back_ and Cas couldn't have him.

Because his life didn't work like that. If it wasn't making him miserable he wasn't allowed to have it.

"I thought so. Goodbye Dean." And with that, Cas walked out of the room, leaving the tattered remnants of his hope behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and comments are what keep my heart beating and my fingers typing some days. This series looks to be maybe 6-7 parts long so far? It won't be fast but it will be complete! *smoulders determinedly off into the middle distance*


End file.
